Bikini Wax At The Office

"Hard work never killed anybody but why take the chance?"~ Edgar Bergen (1903-1978)

Last night I started thinking about the fact that this weblog is the only place I've ever felt I could be completely honest. No one I know is aware that I even have a weblog (many of them don't even know what a weblog is) and anyone who stumbles across it won't ever know who I am. I don't have to protect anyone's feelings or refer to events in code. Wow...how liberating!

In celebration of total honesty, I have to share one of my office stories with you. A couple of months ago, one of my coworkers decided to get her first Brazillian bikini wax. I've never had a bikini wax of any kind, so I told her to let me know how painful it was...just in case I lose my mind at some point and decide to get one for myself. The day after the waxing, she came over to my office, locked the door behind her and started telling me about the procedure. Then, she pulls her dress up and her underwear down and SHOWS me the bikini wax. I glanced down and looked up immediately, commenting that it did look a little odd. She stood there and continued the conversation without any wardrobe adjustment. Finally, to my great relief, she pulled her underwear up and left. You can not imagine how relieved I was. I mean, I'm pretty comfortable with my own body and I certainly have seen friends in various stages of undress, but never, never, never has anyone wanted to show me their genitals. Luckily for me, she hasn't felt the need to expose herself again. The company I work for is the weirdest place I've ever worked.

Here's a brief glimpse into the madness. The owner of company never participates in any office activity, including work. He sits in his office all day, playing cards online. If you have a work-related question, you'd better make it snappy because he's not going to be happy that you're intruding on his game. It's just as well, really, because generally speaking, he won't know the answer and won't care about whatever it is you're there for.

Then there's The Information Superhighway, who got the bikini wax. I don't really think she needs any more introduction. Next to her is Mr. Moneybags, who's a right wing, bigoted, hypocritical, Bible-thumping asshole who's pretty sure he's got all the answers. Just ask him. He's mean spirited, doesn't like anyone particularly (probably not even himself) and spends most of his time complaining about the company.

Crazy Employee is our newest addition, whose husband lost his job and was unemployed for about six months. Crazy Employee is famous for her win/win situation arguments. She needed to get her car fixed and wanted the company to buy a new engine for it and to have one of our employees (a mechanic) to install it. Win/win. When no one saw the benefit for the company in doing that, she just took it to a mechanic's shop where we have a corporate account, got them to fix it and charged it to the company. No, she did not ask for permission to do that. Oooo, win/win again. We also have a corporate account at Sam's Club, where we get office supplies like paper towels, toilet tissue, etc. again, without asking, she charged a lot of food (and I'm talking wine and t-bone steaks) and some clothing to the account. No, she didn't get fired. As a matter of fact, no one even talked to her about it. She was sent a memo, telling her that her charging privileges had been revoked. That's telling her.

Then there's Loathsome, who is working at our office out of state...much against his will. he's a blue-collar guy who compensates by being unbearably pompous, vain and pretentious. He wears the best clothes money can buy. Loathsome was at a company party one year and, when someone commented about his decision to wear a tee-shirt with dress slacks, he responded with "This shirt cost $200. this is class." Too bad the same could not be said of the person wearing it.

Computer Coot is supposed to be our computer specialist. He's like 95 or something and doesn't know anything about computers. I don't think anyone here has a fully functioning computer. If he doesn't know what's wrong with your computer (which is, oh, about 99.9% of the time), he tells you he doesn't know, but wants you to let him know if it happens again. I guess we should give him credit for honesty, but we're too annoyed that our computers won't work. He spends most of his time downstairs in his office, looking at porn or playing cards.

There are three more people who work here, but I don't have time to tell you about them. I guess I'll just have to get to them tomorrow.